


Jubilee Line

by agentg23



Series: Whats Been Lost [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Angst, Sad, Sad Wilbur Soot, Trains, vauge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:27:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27274912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentg23/pseuds/agentg23
Summary: Short writing of what Jubilee Line made me think of. Its not directly mentioning Wil, but I used his description because I already knew how to describe that. I also really wanted to read something sort of sad so I wrote it. If you like it, leave a kudos and I might expand itIF ANY CC IS UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THIS OR FIC WRITING I WILL TAKE IT DOWN
Series: Whats Been Lost [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010898
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	Jubilee Line

The station was desolate, with only the hushed noise of distant trains cutting through the cold England air. It was raining lightly, water pooling in across the cobblestone. One man stood by the rails, seemingly unaffected by the weather. He let the rain fall, only moving to take off his old guitar. It was worn, and had stickers along the sides. He took a moment of hesitation, a slight second of emotion, before setting it against the pillars. A train's horn snapped him out of his daze, and he turned to face the tunnels. The old intercom announced the passing of a train, heading through Brighton to Seaford. The stranger pulled a note out of his pocket. The white slip of paper slipped through the strings, landing inside the guitar. He straightened, backing up to the edge of the platform. There was a gap in the barriers, only noticeable if someone really looked. It seemed to be familiar to him however, as he slipped right through. There was no emotion in his eyes, just a glazed expression of calm. The train horn was louder, mere seconds away from passing. Bright headlamps blinded the man, but he didn’t need to see to know what had to be done. He pushed forward, relishing in the split feeling of peace and freedom before he closed his eyes. As the train blared and moved past, the only evidence of this man and his story was the left behind guitar and the blood on the tracks.


End file.
